


The fragments of glass

by Lucya_fantasy4ever



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Development, Character Study, F/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucya_fantasy4ever/pseuds/Lucya_fantasy4ever
Summary: He was a silver and she was a glass.He was unique and she was ordinary.Or a story about finding worth in ourselves.





	The fragments of glass

She didn't often think about herself. Why should she? She was just an ordinary girl from a small town with hopes, dreams, pain, and tears like everybody else. But there was this one thing she couldn't wrap her mind around. A feeling that whenever she would paint a picture of herself, the result didn't correspond with the person she knew she was. So she didn't often think about herself. And even if she did, she never lingered.

Her tale began when she was seven years old. Her teacher took the class on a trip to a library. It was a small one, but she fell in love with it anyway. Her little heart was filled with joy as she gently touched the backs of books on the shells she could reach. It was at that exact moment she made friends that would never leave her. However, she didn't know that, yet. Back then she was just a child that found her first spark. When she came home, her mother smiled fondly at her little - usually quiet - girl as she talked about the trip for hours.  
"Sweetheart would you like us to go the library again?" her mother asked her after she had finished her story. The girl's eyes widened and she nodded quickly. Her mother laughed and sent her to finish her homework first. But she kept the promise and in the end of a week, the girl found herself in the library again. And since then she never truly left. Her heart was trapped within the pages filled with ink, her soul became one with the stories. She grew up with the amazing characters that made her laugh and cry and for that, she never ceased to love them.

And that was okay, for it was normal.

She was a cheerful child, even though she was rather shy. That's why she was uncomfortable in larger groups. But she would never trade the few friends she managed to make for anything in this world. She was transparent. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her friend knew that. But it wasn't something that bothered her. Everybody had emotions, hers just were a little easier to see. In fact, it was something she had often relied on. What she couldn't say with her voice, she let her face to tell. What she couldn't prove by a big statement, she clarified by actions. And what she didn't want to say... Well, she buried deep inside her.

But that was okay, for it was normal.

When she was eight, her mother took her to a local theatre. She didn't remember whether it was a reward for something or just a spur of a moment decision, but this moment changed her life. It was a simple child play called Peter Pan. She was fidgeting nervously, not feeling comfortable with so many people surrounding her. That was when the Peter Pan came on the stage. A young boy, probably a few years older than her stood proudly before the audience. A soft green light fell on his shoulders, making his hair seem white and with the sweetest smile, he had said: "Peter Pan, that's what they call me. Come with me and you'll never be lonely." For a while, the girl had a feeling that he was looking directly at her. Then he grinned happily and began to dance with his lost boys. The girl wanted nothing more than to join them. She was mesmerized from the first note of the opening song and quickly forgot about her worries. The beautiful music, colorful costumes, and the beloved story made her almost cry from happiness. She was almost disappointed when the play ended. But it was around that time when the second spark found its place inside her, starting a strong fire.  
Sometime later her mother would ask her if she wanted to join a drama club. But she would shake her head slowly and smile. "No, mummy, I just like the pretty feeling of theatre. I don't wanna be on stage, I just want to watch it." Ever since that day her mum knew that her daughter would be drawn to the arts. And she was right.  
As the girl grew she learned all that she could about the wonder that was theatre. And even though she never wanted to play, she often volunteered to help the local theatre out. When it came to costumes and requisites, there wasn't a better person for the job. She made friends there quickly and spent a lot of her free time with them. So it was always a heartbreaking experience when the actors moved to another town, chasing a better career. However, there was one career in particular that she kept a close eye on. The one belonging to the boy, who - once upon a time - made her love the theatre. She never met him though. He was famous and gone sooner that she had ever a chance of thanking him.

But it was okay, for it was normal.

She was trustworthy. She could reflect someone's strength as well as someone's flaws and she always named them as they were. That being said, she was never cruel about it. She would point it out as kindly as she could and help the person to improve. She would always listen to others and asked nothing in return because that was just the kind of person she was. And that was why she decided to be a teacher. Her mother wasn't surprised when she had told her and although her mother warned her it was not an easy road she supported her unconditionally. The young woman she was now was fair and just and the kids liked her. She became the headteacher of drama class and there was no better feeling in the world than seeing the joy in the children's eyes as their parents applauded them. She was so proud of them.

And that was okay, for it was normal.

She was see-through. In the larger group, she would be the last person, someone would notice. And she was aware of that. Sometimes she could become practically invisible. And she didn't mind since she was not exactly a people person. All in all, it was much easier to escape from a party when nobody was looking for her. Except right now. She was standing in the back of the room, hiding from actors celebrating the successful premiere of the new Christmas play. A play that she had directed. She thought about her life with a small secretive smile. She liked to think of herself as lucky. She was grateful for every person that came into her life, for she believed that they changed her life for better. She loved her family and she loved her friends. Even though they were loud and obnoxious and right now, trying to make her drunk.

She was not perfect but that was okay. It was perfectly normal, for she was a glass.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But he was a silver.

At first, she thought it was George, the main lead of the play, who approached her. But then he spoke and she could only describe his voice as silver. "That was a beautiful play. You managed to take something everybody knows and make it different. Great job. I loved it."  
She turned to look and the stranger that spoke to her and something inside her cracked. He was tall and slim, with striking blue eyes and hair that shone in the soft lights like silver. She recognized him instantly. This was hers Peter Pan.  
For a while, she lost her words, but then she managed to get out a quiet thank you.  
He beamed at her and she realized that for all those years, there was a tiny place in her heart that secretly loved him, for it was him, who gave a direction and passion to her life. Even if he was just a boy backs than. He was already silver to her.

And suddenly, she didn't feel okay anymore.

For he was a silver and she was a glass. For he was shining so brightly and she was transparent and see-through. He was unique while she was ordinary. He was out there for the whole world to see and she was standing here reflecting the images of others.

He was silver and she was glass. He was strong and she was fragile. Oh, so fragile. One wrong push and she could shatter to pieces.

So she didn't feel okay anymore.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But, ...

He was here, smiling at her, praising her and she remembered the time she had seen his last performance in this theatre. He received a simple glass award from the theatre as a parting gift, but he looked at it as if he had never seen something so precious in his like. And now the same look was directed at her with such an intensity she had to avert her eyes. His smile fell a little and her heart clenched.  
She looked into the glass she was holding in her hand. "Thank you," she repeated.  
"What for?" he asked confused. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and decided to go for it.  
"For being the best Peter Pan any little girl could ever wish for."  
He looked at her with a question in his eyes, but then the realization dawned on him. He laughed happily: "It was my favorite play, also my first one here."  
"I know." she murmured silently, still keeping her eyes on the glass in her hands. "You are a lot of awards and fans further from that time."  
"Am I now?" he asked, suddenly sounding tired. "Truth to be told I still like my first one best."  
"Oh, the silver sculpture for best child actor?" The girl asked, remembering the time she watched this particular ceremony on TV.  
"No, the one I got from here."  
"But..." she looked at him, surprised."That was just a piece of glass. It didn't have any official meaning."  
"It had a meaning!" he exclaimed. "It was the most beautiful gift I ever received. Something from people, who believed in me. No other award can even compare. The more prices you get the more people are watching you, trying to guess if it is your last one. They become filled with ill-thoughts and envy. Not the first one though."  
She listened to him with wide eyes and for the first time, she understood that maybe, standing on the top of the world could be tiring. Maybe even finest silver could become dim and dull if there was no one, who could polish him.

"That's why I liked your play. It was so lively and full of passion. I was like watching a rainbow dancing in the corner of my eyes." Her face flared red. She was not used to compliments and it was even worse, coming from someone she treasured so dearly.  
"It was as beautiful as glass," he added quietly.  
She almost choked on her drink. "A glass?"  
"Well, yes. You see if you hold it at a certain angle you can see all the colors of the rainbow."

But...

He was here, praising here, smiling at her and she thought that maybe it is okay to be a glass. For she would gladly create a rainbow for him to look at. And suddenly she was not okay. She was perfect.

After all the glass is born of fire and silver is purified in it.

And so were they.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work that I decided to post. English is not my first language so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me. I would appreciate your help.


End file.
